Author Archives: Pam Teschner

Eclipsed Glory

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The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Psalm 19:1
I just had my second experience of a total solar eclipse. I remember my first experience in 1979, but this was even more spectacular to my soul. The internet is flooded with eclipse experiences, meanings and overall hype. So, I, too, must add my perspective.
Around 9:00 am, I nearly jumped out of my shoes when my phone started blasting an emergency notification. Thinking the world was about to end, I grabbed my phone and read something about not stopping my car in dry grass to watch the eclipse because of the extreme fire danger. My heart finally resumed normal beating again only to be shocked a while later with a second message to not look directly into the sun. Then the third and final emergency blasts had something to do with rock climbing and limited emergency response teams. I felt fairly safe in the damp grass of my backyard. What are people doing out there??
I set up my camera and tripod and sat on the patio waiting for the moment of totality. The sky gradually shifted from bright blue to deeper blue and finally darkened.  With my eclipse glasses straddling my nose to protect my eyes, I watched the disk of the sun gradually disappear in thinner and thinner crescents. Then the moment of totality arrived and everything went dark. My heart leaped as I took off my eclipse glasses and gazed at the beauty glowing above me. The corona— the wispy atmosphere of the sun – created a halo of glory around the sun. I heard whoops and cheers in the neighborhood and a fire cracker went off. I was overcome with beauty and all I could exclaim was “Wow, Wow!!” Not too original, but nothing more could be uttered as my heart exploded with wonder and my eyes teared up in awe.

8/21/2017 10:18 am Lebanon, Oregon

Total solar eclipse, Mercury below and to the left.

 
I was cast into the great shadow of the moon and enveloped in darkness. My solar lights and a nearby street light came on automatically, and I began snapping pictures. My exhilaration crescendoed as a diamond ring appeared for a few fleeting moments. The first bead of sunlight shone through the rugged lunar terrain of craters, mountains and valleys creating a shining diamond set in a bright ring of the lunar silhouette.

8/21/2017 about 10:22 am, Lebanon, Oregon

Diamond Ring

 
God set the sun, moon and earth at the precise distances according to their extremely different sizes to create this unique phenomena. Although the moon is 400 times smaller than the sun, it is also about 400 times closer to the Earth. The distances and sizes and moment of perfect alignment create a total solar eclipse where the moon appears the same size of the sun blocking it but leaving the beauty of the corona. Then a few minutes later, He gives us a diamond ring. The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Pondering this whole phenomena this morning, God reminded me of the moment He covered Moses with His hand to block His blinding glory and Moses saw His passing corona.
Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.” And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”
Then the Lord said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”
And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.
Exodus 33:18-23; 34:6-7
 
 
 
 

Speak Lord

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A few weeks ago, in the early morning hours, I whispered, Speak Lord.
And yet my heart faltered and the words died in my throat.
I wasn’t sure I could bear what absolute Holiness might say to me.
My weakness, inadequacy, and failure crept into my consciousness,
And the enemy pierced my heart with guilt and doubt.
Then the waters of my soul stirred with the voice of God…Do you trust me?
Hesitantly, I whispered, Speak Lord.
And while the words were still on my lips, He spoke…
My love for you reaches beyond the most distant dust of the universe
And beyond your greatest fears;
My compassion enters the abyss of darkness
And embraces your weakness and failure;
My heart yearns for you just as you are.
I AM with you.
I AM holding your right hand.
I AM your way, your truth and your very life.
I will do immeasurably more than all you can ask or imagine.
Trust Me.
 
 

The Magnificent Wallowas

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I gaped at the snowy peaks of the Wallowa Mountains this week for the first time and wondered why it took me so long to get here. Entering the land of the Wallowas is stepping into the presence of breath-taking majesty. The spectacular mountains rise nearly straight up from lush meadows creating a skyline of craggy peaks blanketed by evergreen forests. The dramatic vista creates a deep sense of awe and wonder. I asked a local woman if she ever stopped seeing them, and she said, “No, I’m amazed at their beauty every day.” The quiet beauty of this magnificent land in the northeast corner of Oregon breathes a serenity into the air and into the soul that ventures into this hallowed place.

My friend, Debbie, and I spent a day wandering through the nearby artsy community of Joseph enjoying its culture, heritage and soul. The bronze sculptures and good food were highlights, but there’s just something about the sauntering jingle of spurs from a couple of passing cowboys.
The second day, we took the tram up the side of Mt. Howard and stood on the top of the 8,150 foot peak. The air is definitely thinner at that elevation or I’m getting pathetically out of shape…or perhaps, both. The panorama is even more spectacular from the summit with peak after peak stretching into the distance. Silvery ribbons of melting snow rush down a nearby mountain and into Wallowa Lake.

A prevalent bird in the subalpine forest of the peak is Clarke’s Nutcracker. I saw several of them and did a little research on the bird and discovered another revelation of God. These birds feed predominantly on the seeds of the whitebark pine. They eat some and bury some for the long winter months. According to Keith Pohs in his book, The Wallow Mountains, A Natural History Guide, “Studies have shown that about one in three seed caches buried by the bird goes unrecovered, and these seeds often sprout into new trees. The bird’s ability to carry many seeds at one time and its tendency to bury them at the perfect depth for germination appears to be an evolutionary co-adaptation with the pine.” Isn’t God amazing? He orchestrates even the details of the Clarke’s Nutcracker food preference, the perfectly shaped beak to get to it, and the cone structure and reproduction cycle of whitebark pines. Amazing.

The great Wallowa peaks all point in unison to the heavens and silently shout the magnificent greatness of their Creator. Spending a few days here between these towering peaks and on top of one has given me a new perspective on dwelling in the shelter of the Most High and resting in the shadow of the Almighty. May I never stop seeing His beauty and being overwhelmed by His majesty – every day.
 
 

Grieve Well

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The morning of April 18, 2017 was the morning that God had planned from eternity past to lift Dick Kearns from the bonds of his body and into the loving embrace of Jesus Christ. All Dick’s days, from conception to death, were ordained by God and written in His book before one of them came to be. His short story on this planet ended on that April morning, but the rest of his eternal story has only just begun.
Dick is the husband of Dixie, one of the 10 women I share life with. We’re called Heirborne, a worship band of all women, and we worship together, pray together, cry together and celebrate God together. We road trip around Oregon dragging sound equipment and instruments to various retreats and events and have a blast.
We’ve been together for more years than I can remember helping and praying each other through the struggles and joys of living of life. Even now, as I type this, one of us was just admitted to the hospital and the text messages of prayer are flying.
Dixie is one of the five vocalists of Heirborne and sings alto. The evening of April 18, she came to rehearsal as usual but grieving. We wrapped our arms, our hearts and our prayers around her. At Dick’s memorial service, we sang, I Will Rise, and, to the astonishment of everyone in the room, Dixie stepped onto the platform, stood front and center with Jamey and Marcy on one side and Rhonda and Denice on the other  and she sang out her heart…
There’s a peace I’ve come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There’s an anchor for my soul
I can say “It is well”

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles’ wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise, I will rise
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the room. Mine certainly weren’t.
At rehearsal last Tuesday night, she brought a poem she had written and read it to us because she wanted us to know this man of hers whom she deeply loves. I asked if I could post it, and she, rather hesitantly, agreed. I pray that her grief and her hope touches that place in every heart that has known grief.

WHEN I GET HOME

By Dixie Kearns

Going off to work each morning,

Leaving you asleep, alone –

No goodbye or sad forlorning,

You’ll be here when I get home.

Driving home in dark of evening,

Knowing what awaits me soon,

“Is that you, hon? How’s your day been?

I’m sure glad you’re home!”

Weekend brings us both together –

Time to share our lives as one.

‘So good to be with one another,

Joining hearts in our church home.

Family loved and family needing,

Oft I leave to serve my own.

But my heart is always seeking

To come back to you at home.

You received a Godly vision,

Though its scope is still unknown.

You completed your great mission

And God began to call you home

Days of pain and days of suffering,

You endured a mass of stone.

No hope is medicine now offering.

You want just to be back home.

God is good and God is gracious.

My Love, if only I had known

How short was time and moments precious

‘Til Jesus came and took you home.

Now I drive in evening darkness,

Rememb’ring how your lovelight shone.

Up ahead I face great sadness –

You’re not there when I get home.

Loving you so long and deeply –

How to live now that you’re gone?

Memories surround me sweetly.

How I yearn for you at home!

Someday traveling will be over,

No more miles be left to roam.

Then I’ll finally see my Savior.

And you’ll be there when I go home.

 
Dixie is pictured with the rest of Heirborne on the Events page.
 

Song of the Soul

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Sometimes suffering casts a heavy shadow over my faith and I wonder if God is still there and still cares. Sometimes it seems like He’s on vacation sipping ice tea in some remote corner of the galaxy and has forgotten about my struggles in the miniscule corner of the planet I occupy.
My humanity doubts when things are hard. Tied by the invisible bonds of gravity to the ground, I’m unable to see what lies beyond in the boundless dimension of eternity.  Life is hard, people suffer, I experience loss and it seems like God has gone missing when I need Him most.
Asaph felt the same way when he penned Psalm 77. He cried out to God in a time of great distress and reached for Him in his despair only to find Him absent.
When I was in deep trouble, I searched for the Lord. All night long I prayed, with hands lifted toward heaven, but my soul was not comforted. I think of God, and I moan, overwhelmed with longing for his help. Psalm 77:2-3, NLT
The melody of Asaph’s mournful lament is familiar today – Have You rejected me, God? Has Your unfailing love finally failed? Have You forgotten Your promise to remember me? Have You given up on me? Have I finally worn out Your compassion and exhausted Your love? In a secret corner of our hearts, the same questions haunt us.
Then Asaph inserted a selah in the music – a silent pause to reflect and listen. As his overwhelmed spirit sighed in the pause, he picked up a quiet refrain issuing from the heart of God like the deep sustaining tones of a cello. Then lifted on the undercurrent of those rich tones, he began to recall the greatness of Jehovah.
But then I recall all you have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago. They are constantly in my thoughts. I cannot stop thinking about your mighty works. O God, your ways are holy. Is there any god as mighty as you? You are the God of great wonders! You demonstrate your awesome power among the nations. Psalm 77:11-14, NLT
Asaph’s circumstances didn’t change, but the song of his soul shifted from lament to hope and joy when he remembered the faithfulness of his God.
Jeremiah’s lament echoes the same despair turned to hope: The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!” Lamentations 3:19-24, NLT
In our days of difficulty and distress, when we think God has left us to sort it out on our own, He waits for us to pause and remember. Then, in the selah, we pick up the rich sustaining tones of His greatness and power. The warm resonance of those great strings sing of His goodness and love. This love is unaffected by our failures and doubts. His attention and affection do not ebb and flow with our circumstances, our needs or even our response or lack of response to Him. His compassions never fail, and His loving embrace never loosens. From His song, lament turns to hope and hope to joy. Perhaps the deepest joy follows the deepest lament.